Drink?
by corsairr
Summary: After Jacob drops the break up bomb on Shepard, James is the only one there to comfort her. He leaves the room with a bloody nose and a dazed look in his eyes.


The punchbag flew back violently as Gale dug her fist into it repeatedly, her knuckles long since bruised but her being unable to stop. Sweat dripped down her forehead and her muscles were aching. How long had it been now? Two hours, she reminded herself. Two hours since they'd gotten back from the mission on Gellix, two hours since she'd been dumped.

Cute boys didn't dump Gale. Gale dumped cute boys. That was how it worked. She plunged her fist into the punchbag harder than she had been, imagining Mr. Taylor's face where her fist was going. But Jacob so easily broke it to her that he was espoused to another, having believed he'd never see Shepard again. She didn't consider it cheating, no, but she did consider it bullshit.

"Easy, Commander," a wary voice spoke from behind her.

"Get back to work, Vega." snapped Gale, unrelenting on that poor punchbag.

Finally, the punchbag collapsed under the force of her fists, and she stopped at once, her shoulders heaving up and down as she breathed heavily. She wiped a bout of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand as she heard an amused chuckle coming from James' direction. She whirled on him, the angry glare in her eyes immediately silencing the lieutenant.

James casually hoisted himself onto the desk beside her, his hands in his pockets. His dark hair was its usual enticing messiness, and his eyes were their usual enticing playfulness. "Who was that guy, anyway? You guys seemed pretty close."

She walked over to the desk he was sitting on, grabbing a bottle of water with her fingerless-gloved hand. After taking a swig of it, she carelessly tossed it into the trash. "Ex-boyfriend." she replied bluntly. Gale was many things, but reserved was not one of them. Blunt and an open book, she was.

"Ah." James was quiet for a long moment as the air turned awkward. He could feel Shepard's eyes on him, but he kept his eyes firmly glued to the ground. It felt like a lifetime had passed before he finally severed the tension. "When were you two together?"

"Back when I was working with Cerberus." she replied simply, shrugging carelessly.

Not much of a conversationist, he noted. "Was it serious?"

Gale didn't know the answer to that. Jacob had told her he liked things light, didn't like commitment. Shepard was the same way, and that was perhaps the reason they got along so well. Whereas she was reckless and ruthless, he was cautious and just- a perfect counterpart for someone as unstable as Shepard. As for the answer to James' question, it was too complicated to sum up in one word.

So she simply didn't answer. She did that often, much to her crewmates' dismay. If she didn't know the answer to something, rather academically, combatically, or personal, she just went quiet and resumed whatever she was doing. She picked up a gun and started tinkering, replacing its heat sink with something more to her taste.

James sighed irritably. He hopped off of the desk. The way his back muscles shifted and flexed did not escape Gale. He disappeared back into his work space for a long moment, then reemerged with a bottle of brandy in his hand and a mischievous smirk on his lips. James definitely knew how to make Gale smile.

"Drink?" he asked suavely.

Begrudgingly, she snatched the bottle from his hand. After corking it and taking a sip, she scowled with disgust. "What the fuck is this?"

"Ryncol," A shit-eating grin rose to his lips. "The best kind of shit ale money can buy. Now, how about a dance? You'll be able to hit a target that fights back." His eyes twinkled.

Her attention was piqued. James and Gale may not have talked much during the time they spent together, but they had an unspoken understanding between one another. He knew she liked to punch and explode things, and knew that was the only thing that could calm her down when angered. Of course, everyone knew that, but nobody except James actually offered to let her punch the shit out of them.

She carelessly set the bottle of alcohol back onto the desk and straightened up. James walked backwards, watching her with a devious smirk as she followed him to the center of the cargo hold. She made the first move, lunging her fist directly at his face. He dodged his head just in time to escape a black eye. He brought his fists to his chest after straightening back up, tossing a punch towards her gut.

He didn't miss. A bullet of pain shot through her abdomen, but it'd take more than that to stagger a trained N7 commander. "Nice hit." she commented dryly, her breath coming out in shaky pants. She threw another punch without warning, her fist connecting with his nose. He groaned with pain, but immediately retaliated by charging at her. His strong arms wrapped around her waist and tumbled her to the ground.

Their 'dances' always ended with intense wrestling. Straddling Gale's waist, he aimed for another punch, but she grabbed his wrists just in time and flipped them over. Her knees were planted firmly on his shoulders to restrain his arms from too much movement. She pulled her fist back, getting ready to plunge it into his face when she felt a sharp pain shoot through her back where he'd kneed her.

Taking advantage of the distraction, he latched onto the back of her neck and sat up sharply, punching her in the stomach and making her fall backwards. "You more of a top or bottom, Shepard?" he quipped playfully now that he was sitting on top of her again. Blood was trickling down his right nostril from the blow he'd suffered.

"Fuck you." Gale spat.

He laughed breathlessly. Once his laughter died down and he realized he was still on top of her, he started to hastily clamber off with a blush covering his cheeks when Gale grabbed his wrists, stopping him. His brows furrowed with confusion, but he could do no more than that before Gale sat up and kissed him without warning.

He willingly kissed back once he realized what was happening. No sparks flew or anything dramatically romantic you might see in movies, but it felt natural. Right. But it was short-lived. He jumped when a fierce roll of thunder sounded, and sharply turned his head towards the direction of the noise. Standing in the midst of ashes clearly caused from an explosion was none other than Cortez, whose face was covered with soot and he looked like a deer caught in headlights.

Gale pushed James off of her lap and jumped up, grinning and flashing her gold teeth. "That was awesome." she said to Cortez. The woman had a borderline obsession with explosions, no matter what was exploding.

"I swear those heat ignition implants were programmed correctly. I didn't mean to explode half of the shuttle." Cortez spluttered nervously.

"What kind were they?" Gale asked curiously. She was acting like the kiss had never happened, leaving a dumbfounded James on the floor.

"Uhh..." Cortez paused to look down at a plate on the shuttle. "Cortana 57."

Her grin faded to a familiar mischievous smirk. "Put in a requisition order for thirty of them."


End file.
